Battling Demons Again
by navycorpsman
Summary: Now that Neela and Ray are married, how do they handle her insecurities waking up?
1. Chapter 1

_I don't own the characters. They are owned by NBC and Michael Crichton and all those who write, produce, and etc…ER. If I did own ER, Neela and Ray would be together…since they're PERFECT for each other. _

_Anyhow, this follows (sorta) INNER BATTLES AND DEMONS. Basically, what happened at the end of I DON'T still happens. Sorry. However, Ray and Neela are married, but had a newlywed tiff and she loses control…again. This is what causes Ray to go to the bar and drink, which, in the end, sends her out of control even more._

_If you don't like, blame the muses! LoL) I hope my muses aren't continuing to be rusty and that you enjoy!_

* * *

It's funny how you can control something for a long time and then, without warning, it comes back to control you…again…and that is what happened. It's hard to say where it all began again. For years, I had battled demons within myself and with the help of friends and other loved ones, I gotten it all under control.

Or so I thought.

It may have been re-triggered by the whole process of planning my wedding. The first one was kind of like thrown together, but my marriage to Ray was going to be done right. After all, I had loved Ray for as long as I can possibly remember. To make the wedding perfect and encase everything I dreamt of as a little girl, I was planning the hell out of the wedding. So much so that Ray offered to get a wedding planner, but I declined. I wasn't going to trust anyone else with something so important as my wedding. Especially since it was Ray I was marrying. Ray, despite his imperfections, is perfect and I wanted our wedding day to reflect that and I wanted to be perfect for him.

That was the beginning. I think. Planning a wedding is tough work. Working to get the perfect flower arrangements. The perfect wedding dress. The perfect menu. The perfect everything. The perfectionist in me rose up from the dead, which meant I had to achieve the perfect weight so that I could fit into that perfect dress that I had hanging in Abby's

Surprisingly, the wedding went off without a hitch. Well, except for the fact that I was nearly an hour late because of traffic on Lake Shore Drive. Not to mention the fact that the car I was in got behind every slow driver in the entire Chicago Metropolitan area. I actually had to have Abby, my matron of honour, call and let Ray know I was coming.

I managed to get past that and when I walked down the aisle and saw Ray…well, all the fears and frustrations and fights over the wedding melted and life was perfect. The most important thing to me in the wedding was there…in his tuxedo. The one I managed to con him into wearing and I can promise you I was happy I did.

But, the first indication that I was losing control was the fact that we had this beautiful meal and I picked at it. Ray sat there, in silence, watching me pick at my food. He never said anything, but he knew the path I was starting to head back on. All he did was hold my hand and I felt like I could, again, control what was beginning to rear it's ugly head.

I knew that I could, with Ray's help (again) keep control of my eating disorder.

And, it seemed, for the first few months of our marriage, it was everything I imagined it would be. We had our normal spats about cleaning (which I do…Ray was trying, I'll grant that) or who'd do the laundry. We even had a spat over which part of Chicago to live in or how to decorate the house. Spats were normal, but that's just marriage and we never went to bed angry with each other. There are times we fight just so we can make up.

But, this was different. This was a real fight.

It started with that drunk girl in the bar, hitting on Ray. I didn't know that he was trying to tell her he was married. I didn't hear that. All I saw was this tall blonde bimbo in the shortest skirt with the longest legs I'd ever seen hanging all over my husband. When Ray brought our drinks back to the table, I was silent, bordering on cold.

Ray sensed something was wrong, but he rightfully said nothing. Anything he would have said would have been wrong. Instead, he merely sipped his beer and looked around. This, of course, also irritated me. The leggy blonde got under my skin and old insecurities started to rise. The only person I could think of to be angry at was not her, but Ray.

I couldn't say anything to Ray. In my mind, I couldn't see how he could possibly understand why I was upset. The walk home was cold and silent and the war raged inside me. I couldn't control the fact that women - tall, leggy, skinny, busty women - were attracted to my husband.

How do you compete with that? After all, I'm only 5'3". I'm not fat, but I'm far from being Barbie Doll thin. My breasts are, for a lack of better description, similar to me: not too big but not too small. Ray always told me they are the perfect size.

But, when you see the type of women that hit on Ray, you'd see that they are the stereotypical California girl: Tall, busty, leggy, tan, and perfectly white teeth. They are also ready and willing to do things to Ray that I can only imagine doing.

So, the battle begins again. How do you fight a war you thought you already won?


	2. Chapter 2

_I don't own the characters. They are owned by NBC and Michael Crichton and all those who write, produce, and etc…ER. If I did own ER, Neela and Ray would be together…since they're PERFECT for each other. _

_Anyhow, this follows (sorta) INNER BATTLES AND DEMONS. Basically, what happened at the end of I DON'T still happens. Sorry. However, Ray and Neela are married, but had a newlywed tiff and she loses control…again. This is what causes Ray to go to the bar and drink, which, in the end, sends her out of control even more._

_If you don't like, blame the muses! LoL) I hope my muses aren't continuing to be rusty and that you enjoy!_

* * *

I wish I could say that by the next morning, I had cooled off, but I can't. I was still very angry with Ray. Very angry. As I prepared for work, he kissed my neck and I shrugged him off. I was fuming. He felt him sigh hard on my neck. "What did I do now?"

I finished pouring my coffee. "If you have to ask…"

"Right." Ray poured himself a cup of coffee and took a long sip. "How can I apologize if I don't know what I did?" A small sigh. "Or didn't do."

"Nothing." I opened the newspaper and sipped my coffee, coldly ignoring Ray.

"Fine." He slammed his coffee down on the counter, spilling half the contents.

"You can at least wipe up your coffee." I yelled as he walked down the hall.

"Fuck you, Neela!" I heard the door slam. I stared wide - eyed ahead of me. Ray and I had, throughout the years, had our fair share of fights and never once had he said 'Fuck you, Neela!' I did the only thing I could think of. I ran to the cupboard and grabbed the first box of Twinkies I could find. I quickly ate half the box and feeling guilty for eating half the box, I went to the bathroom and threw them up.

I would like to say that I was now okay, but I wasn't. It only made things worse. I wiped my tears and washed my hands. I hopped into the shower and got ready for work. Tears of anger and frustration flowed with the water and I began to not only hate Ray, but myself as well. I certainly wasn't victim in this, but I was going to make it be spun that way. After all, it was Ray that hadn't shaken off that blonde bimbo Barbie from the bar. He almost enjoyed her hanging all over him.

Those images played over and over in my head. Her laughing and seductively rubbing my husband's back and making circles on his forearm with her perfectly manicured nails. All this just made me angrier and angrier and all I wanted to do was punish someone. Only, I couldn't punish Ray. After all, he was perfect and I wasn't. I had to make myself perfect because if I did, he wouldn't have to flirt with blonde bimbos.

* * *

At work, the hatred towards Ray for his attitude towards me before leaving for work continued to grow. While I could tell myself that a part of it…well, the start of it, really…was my fault, I wanted only to be mad at him. But, I couldn't tell him that I was mad at him, least of all take it out on him. I took my lunch break and feasted on all I could and immediately headed into the bathroom to let it all go. I stepped out of the stall and saw Abby standing there, almost glaring at me.

"You okay, Neela?" She asked politely, but with a grit to it.

"I'm fine." I lied. "I just ate a little too much and you know how that goes."

"Yeah, I do. I thought you defeated that."

I looked at her reflection. "I did. But, I can't control when I eat a little too much and my body rejects it." I shrugged. "I'm just not feeling well. Eating…"

"Don't lie, Neela. It's not very becoming." Abby crossed her arms and looked at me. "What happened that made you decide to…"

"NOTHING!" I yelled. "I just ate a little too much." I stormed out of the ladies room.

"Neela!" I heard Abby yell after me. "Don't pull that with me. NEELA!"

"Piss off, Abby." I looked back at her and yelled. I didn't watch where I was going and ran right into Ray's chest.

"What's wrong?" He seemed genuinely concerned.

"Nothing that you care about." I don't know why, but concern angered me. After all, he told me to basically fuck off that morning and I wasn't about to let it go.

I should have known Abby would have said something because seconds after I got to the roof, I heard footsteps behind me. "Abby says you threw up in the bathroom." Ray's voice was a cross between anger and concern.

"I had too much to eat and my body refused it."

"Your body or you?"

"Fuck off, Ray." I started to walk off, but he grabbed my arm. "Let me go, you bloody wanker!" Tears of frustration, fear, and insecurity filled my eyes.

"ENOUGH!" He yelled. "If you don't talk to me, how can I help?"

I pulled my arm out of his grip. "You can't, Ray. When are you going to realize that you can't?"

"What's going on, Neela? You've been…" He ran his fingers through his hair. "Shit."

I looked at him. "I'm sorry." I knew what his next words were going to be. "I just…After everything, Ray, I just…" I felt the tears form and I looked at him. There was a hurt sadness in his eyes that made me feel even more insignificant and even more angry at myself for making his eyes that sad. I tentatively walked towards him, hoping that he would comfort me.

He reached out to me and pulled me close to him. "Look. We got through this once and we'll do it again. We'll do it as many times as we need to." He sighed. "What started it again?" I cried as I told him about how planning the wedding stressed me out and how I had to look just perfect for him in that wedding gown to the blonde bimbo hitting on him the previous night. I had expected a "Don't be stupid, Neela." but instead I got a kiss on the forehead. "It's okay. We'll get through this together."

It was that moment that I remembered why I fell in love with the punk rocking doctor from Baton Rouge. Under his hard attitude was a soft heart that wanted nothing more than to be the white knight on the horse, saving me from my imprisonment, just like I dreamt of as a little girl.


	3. Chapter 3

_I don't own the characters. They are owned by NBC and Michael Crichton and all those who write, produce, and etc…ER. If I did own ER, Neela and Ray would be together…since they're PERFECT for each other. _

_Anyhow, this follows (sorta) INNER BATTLES AND DEMONS. Basically, what happened at the end of I DON'T still happens. Sorry. However, Ray and Neela are married, but had a newlywed tiff and she loses control…again. This is what causes Ray to go to the bar and drink, which, in the end, sends her out of control even more._

_If you don't like, blame the muses! LoL I hope my muses aren't continuing to be rusty and that you enjoy!_

* * *

It would be nice to say that that moment on the roof was the turning point in this battle, and, to some point, it was. But, as this disease has a mind of its own and it decides if and when it's going to rear its head again. For a couple weeks, things had been smooth. Ray watched me carefully, but never condemned me. He was there for me and that helped me on my road (the one already traveled) to a recovery I already visited.

It was hard. There were spats about my eating (or the lack thereof), but nothing major. Nothing we hadn't already gone through together and defeated. But it wasn't that easy.

Just when it seemed that my eating, my life, were back on track, a simple financial fiasco threatened to send me spiraling back on my path of destruction.

Ray and I never really got a honeymoon. It was wedding. Weekend. Work. Not much of a honeymoon if you ask me. Somehow, we budgeted wrong and we had to forego what our plans were. Ray was trying to book flights online to Hawaii and the credit card was denied. He and I couldn't figure out what happened and that took its toll.

Of course, my immediate reaction was to freak out and Ray's first reaction was to remain calm. He looked closer at the credit card and laughed. "It's okay, Neela. I just grabbed the one that expired." He went and got the current one and we were on our way to Hawaii for a well deserved honeymoon.

Even that didn't seem to settle me down. If anything, it set me off and everything that he and I worked so hard for seemed to go from bad to worse in Hawaii. All those skinny Hawaiian dancers with their perfectly toned bodies made me even more conscious of my untoned body. I consistently walked with my hand over my stomach with Ray constantly telling me I looked fine. "I bloody well do not look fine, Ray." I snapped.

"I think you do." He was soft and tender and it only set me off.

"And what do you know of it? I see how you look at those dancers and don't lie to me, Ray. I know you wish I had a body like theirs and…"

"Stop it!" His voice, though still soft, was no longer tender. "Why do you do this, Neela? Why do you always tell me what I want you to look like? Haven't I done enough to show you that I think that you're perfect the way you are."

I wanted to believe him, but the truth is that, no matter what he said, I would have still been angry at him. He could have said I was right and I'd have made him sleep on the couch and he could have said what he just said and I would have him sleep on the couch. When the disease takes over, it takes over completely. All rationalization is thrown out the window. Nothing said or done is right. You lose yourself in this disease and it's like life long PMS'ing. I looked at him and sighed. Everything told me he was right, but the disease had taken over and I threw my shoe at him. "GET OUT!" I yelled. I didn't want to deal with him and his whole 'I think you are perfect' attitude about my body.

He didn't move. Instead, he stood there…looking at me, with a sad face. "Neela…"

"I said get out."

"I'm not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever." He walked over to me like an abused puppy walking over to its owner. He enveloped me in his arms.

I cried into his chest. "I can't do this, Ray. I can't do this."

"Shh." he calmly stroked my hair. "You didn't go through this alone the first time and you're not going to go through it alone again. No matter how many shoes you throw at me and how many times you yell at me to get out."

I was angry. But I didn't know where my anger was directed. I wanted to be mad at Ray for not listening to me and I pushed him away. "What if I just want to be alone? This isn't anything that you understand or comprehend. No matter what you say. It's…Just leave." I headed out to the balcony. The disease had taken what was supposed to be a happy time in my life and turned it into the most disastrous. I heard the door shut behind me and I fell to the deck, crying because I knew…felt…that I had just lost my prince.

**

* * *

****I know that this chapter is short…but sometimes chapters in stories have to be short. They sometimes tend to be the most powerful. This has been long in being updated because of my own losing control and me dealing with all that. I hope you are still enjoying this story and aren't too upset with me for my inability to write for a while. NAVY**


End file.
